Tabloids Category
The news as told by the UK’s tabloid press – The Sun, Daily Express, Daily Mail, Daily Mirror, Daily Star and News of the World.
Laid To Rest
‘EASTENDERS continues to lose the plot in fact any plot as it hurtles headlong into storyline meltdown.
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| ‘Engaged! I must have left it plugged into the Internet’ |
Weve got the Sharon and Dennis incest story, which has just disappeared down the storyline plughole, the Ferreiras havent mentioned in months the fact that their father has (thankfully) disappeared and now were expected to believe that Sonia and Martin are getting married.
Thats right, to Martin the boy who got Sonia pregnant and then abandoned her; and who also killed her fiancé Jamie.
Im gonna make you happy, he told her in front of a packed Queen Vic well, hed struggle to ruin her life any more than he already has done.
Dot and Pauline are clucking around like a pair of hens, making plans for a proper East End wedding so thatll be the bride eight months pregnant and police called to the reception then.
More ludicrous storylines include Kate and Dens wife Chrissie opening up a new hairdressing salon in a day – Sophisti-kates.
Den tried to help drum up trade for his wife by suggesting to Pat that she get her hair cut there. Understandably, Chrissie wasnt too happy with him if potential customers were to walk past and see Pat in the window, theyd assume it was a poodle parlour.
Let me run my business and you get on with yours, Chrissie told him his business being Internet porn, obviously.
Theres some light on the horizon though for EastEnders fans, as the Ferreira family have failed to raise the money needed to save their house after Ash gambled it all away on a horse.
Were going to be homeless Karina wailed and jobless too, love, if were lucky.
There were more celebrations on the Square this week as justice finally caught up with Janine.
Janine was caught trying to flee the Square with a suitcase full of Barrys money. Once she was safely out of the way, Pat and Natalie broke into their old house to track down Barrys ashes so they could give him a decent send off.
This being EastEnders, though, the decent send-off consisted of sitting on Arfers bench in the Square and scattering his ashes over a small sapling. Its rather appropriate though Barry was both sappy and plank-like when he was alive.’
Going For Gold
‘YOU might have thought that, after its last ‘world picture exclusive’ cost editor Piers Morgan his job, the Mirror might have been a bit more circumspect.
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| ‘If you’re a real copper, I’m Osama Bin Laden!’ |
Especially as the picture on the front page of this morning’s newspaper – of a dejected villain sitting by boxes of gold he was trying to steal – looks about as real as Grant Bovey’s suntan.
But the Mirror assures us that all is above board and that it really was at Heathrow yesterday morning to witness what was meant to be the biggest robbery of all time.
The robbers had their eyes on 3.5 tonnes of banknotes (worth £60m) and four pallets of wooden boxes, containing £40m of gold bullion, which arrived at the airport at 10 o’clock.
But unfortunately for them, as they talked their way into the airport with the aid of forge identity documents and cargo manifests, the police (and the Mirror) were lying in wait.
Seven of the eight were arrested, one got away in a stolen van and is currently on the run.
‘The proceeds would have dwarfed every other raid in British criminal history,’ says the Mirror (modestly playing down its role in foiling the raid), ‘including the 1963 Great Train Robbery (whose £2.6m haul is equivalent to £25m today) and the £26m Brink’s-Mat bullion heist in 1983.’
Hindsight is a wonderful thing, but the robbers will surely reflect this morning that they would have been much better off trying to turn over one of Her Madge’s many gaffs.
The Mail reports that yet another intruder (this time posing as a policeman) managed to penetrate several layers of security at Windsor Castle yesterday afternoon and, according to unconfirmed reports, came within yards of the Queen’s bedroom before being apprehended.
The paper carries a picture of the Queen looking distinctly unamused – and well she might.
It’s the second time in less than a year that the police have ruined her and Philip’s game of Queens & Robbers.’
Absolutely Hurlarious
‘ANORAK knows when it’s met its match and our humble attempts to put a smile on your face in the morning look pathetic compared with the Mail’s efforts.
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| Liz does her famous turkey impression |
The paper carries not one, but two ‘hilarious’ columns this morning which will have Middle England laughing until her stretch marks ache.
The first is by Michael Simkins, a veteran star of the long-running Mamma Mia, who provides ‘a hilarious insight into Abba’s eternal appeal’.
The second is an extract of Molly Watson’s ‘uproarious’ new book, ‘concluding the hilarious story of a pair of city girls who joined the fox-hunting set in pursuit of romance’.
And that’s without such gems as ‘When Things Got Worse, I Turned To Verse. I Lost My Tumour – But Not My Sense Of Humour’, yet another David Beckham’s guide to ‘Spanish Like Wot It’s Spoke’ and a column by Dr Percy Seymour entitled ‘The Planets DO Rule All Our Lives!’
In fact, the only thing that isn’t pant-wettingly hilarious in today’s Mail appears to be Elizabeth Hurley’s new film, Method, which won’t be appearing at a cinema near you after going straight to video.
It is the latest in a long list of turkeys from La Hurley, which include such stinkers as Serving Sara (‘Hurley’s worst comedy yet’), Bad Boy (‘One of the least convincing lawyers in screen history’), Double Whammy (‘Woeful crime comedy’) and Bedazzled (‘Diabolical acting’).
‘The fact that this has come on top of flop after flop,’ a film source says, ‘means it is increasingly unlikely that Elizabeth Hurley will be chosen to take a lead role again.’
Ben Affleck, take note…’
Bum’s The Word
‘KATE Beckinsale has more than a few turkeys to her name – one thinks of Pearl Harbor, Serendipity and Underworld, to name but three.
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| ‘Even as she read the script, Kate got a sinking feeling’ |
But she’s got a nice bum and, as J-Lo has shown, that’s foundation enough on which to build a Hollywood career.
This morning, that bum (clad in a white bikini and sporting the words ‘Mrs Wiseman’) is enough to secure Kate some prime tabloid real estate.
The Express and Mail both devote their Page 3s to the shots of the newlywed on honeymoon in Costa Rica with her film director husband.
The Star gives it Page 5, the Sun Page 7 and the high-brow Mirror waits until Page 11 before providing its readers with a close-up of the 30-year-old’s buttocks.
The Star even devotes an editorial to the picture.
‘Newly-wed Kate Beckincale emblazoned her bikini bottoms with the words – ‘Mrs Wiseman’,’ it says. ‘So if she forgets her married name, she’s got her arse covered.’
Laugh?! We thought we’d never stop…’
Decked-Out
‘FOR more than a century, no seaside holiday in Britain has been complete without the humble deckchair, announces the Express to whom we are indebted for this information.
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| ‘Straighten the back and open yer legs’ |
We at Anorak, like 99.99 per cent of our fellow countrymen, take our holidays as far away from the British seaside as possible, and so know nothing of deckchairs.
Judging from the pictures, it turns out that they are collapsible beach furniture made from lolly-sticks and gaily-striped canvas, and fit into that deathly British tradition known as cheap and cheerful.
Thats cheap and cheerful in the sense it was used by the government official who proposed two categories of train travel: a luxury service for businessmen and cheap-and-cheerful for the rest.
Anyway, the Express reports that Blackpool the capital of cheap and cheerful Britain is going to get rid of its deck chairs because they create a cloth cap image.
They have a point: one thinks of men in rolled-up trousers wearing knotted hankies on their heads and young urchins with melted ice cream dribbling down their chins, while mum sits on a blanket unpacking the fish-paste sandwiches and bread-and-dripping.
Yes, A far cry from todays Blackpool, which is more Burberry baseball cap than cloth cap. Todays visitors like to emerge in the sunlight about three in the afternoon and warm their piercings in their sun while relaxing on something that fits the contours of a hungover body more comfortably than a narrow deckchair.
A thick, pool of warm vomit, for instance. Believe us, its the future.’
Trouble On The Cards
‘THE SUN alarms us this morning with a strangely paranoid story about supermarket loyalty cards.
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| Buy two tins of tongue and get a free Oliver |
It explains that the cards are used by the shops to monitor our purchases and to direct suitable offers to us.
So if we buy a lot of toilet rolls, they will send us special offers on more of the same, or incontinence pads, or… Well you get the picture.
This has got them thinking. Supposing other people saw these mailings. They would find out things about you that you might not want them to know. Such as what? That your cat eats Tesco tuna eyelids instead of Felix salmon surprise?
No, stupid. They could spill the beans about your secret affair or out-of-control booze habit.
For example, your partner may smell a rat as suspicious money-off promotions for French letters arrive in the post. Or, if youre an alcoholic, drink-related promos may come through the letterbox.
So be warned. The reason your missus hasnt noticed the smell of strange perfume, lipstick marks and late-night working, is probably because shes been too busy scrutinising your Sainsburys junk mail if she can find it at all under the piles of empty gin bottles, of course.’
Houses For Flats
‘GAZA homes fury, announces the Daily Mail, reporting how hundreds of Palestinian refugees are leaving their homes in Gaza.
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| Compacted and bijou property for sale or rent |
It is responding to Israels decision to bulldoze their homes on the Egyptian border after the failure of their appeal to the Supreme Court in Jerusalem.
Bad news for those whose homes are to be razed to the ground, for sure. But the Mail sub-editor who penned that headline will surely be ruing a missed trick. Gaza homes fury? Never!
Delight surely for those with homes intact. A house shortage can mean just one thing to a Mail reader: rising property prices. Praise be to Allah, and pass the JCB!’
Posh To A T
‘IT’S day three of Posh’s T-shirt odyssey and she’s in Los Angeles.
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| Posh hadn’t eaten since she accidentally glued her teeth together |
The Express’ roving T-shirt reporter caught up with Victoria ‘Mrs Beckham’ Beckham as she attended a Los Angeles Lakers basketball game wearing a white vest with the team’s logo on the front.
Our team of code breakers are still trying to decipher what yesterday’s Mickey Mouse T-shirt meant, but today’s creation is surely stating a much clearer message.
And that message is, according to the Express, that Posh is thin.
This is less than groundbreaking news, we grant you, but Posh deserves the exposure for seemingly achieving the impossible and becoming even thinner than she was.
The vest allows us to see her ‘painfully thin’ arms, while the bones in her neck and shoulders stood out ‘prominently’.
But she’s not wasting away, at least not according to a friend of hers who says, ‘Anyone who sees her having lunch will know she always has a big appetite’.
Oddly enough, though, the millions of us who have watched Posh do just about everything aside from squatting on the toilet and racing to the top of the pop charts have never seen her eating lunch…or breakfast, dinner, tea or even a midnight snack.
Save for sucking the face off her husband whenever a camera is close by, we’ve seen next to nothing go into her mouth.
And her husband’s not seen her eating much, at least not recently, what with him being in Spain and her being in America.
However, Posh can still see her man – he features on the cover of Vanity Fair magazine in a series of shots by top snapper Annie Leibowitz.
And that’s because Becks, as the Sun says, is now ‘officially’ a US icon. While his wife has yet to crack Melton Mowbray, Becks has conquered Britain, Japan, Spain and now the US.
‘Life’s just not fair,’ says the Sun. Which is a decent enough assessment of Posh’s current condition. And a fitting slogan for her next T-shirt…’
Sven’s First Eleven
‘A WOMAN publicly humiliated by her man can react in any number of ways.
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| ‘Gary, I can’t fault the girl. She’s given 110%…’ |
Who could have guessed that Posh would have responded to Day-vid’s alleged affair(s) by wearing a string of T-shirts?
She could have pruned her husband’s ardour with pair of Lorena Bobbit own-brand secateurs or thrown herself down the stairs a la Lady Di.
And then there’s the path chosen by Nancy Dell’Olio. When Nancy’s lover, England coach Sven Goran Eriksson, cheated on her with Ulrika Jonsson, she kept her cool.
She didn’t pick up one of her man’s Cuban heels and ram it into his inviting cranium, or do a Stan Collymore and beat Ulrika with her fists.
She merely immersed herself further into her lover’s life. And that meant a change in style, from the way she dressed to the way she spoke.
And so we imagine Nancy sitting at her bureau chez Eriksson writing her beauty column while dressed in an England football shirt, shorts and shin pads, and talking about giving it 110%.
That’s the veritable ’11 out of 10′, a score Nancy gives herself when it comes to looks.
The Mirror says that when asked how she rated herself on a scale of 1 to 10, Nancy replied: ‘I feel that I am an 11.’
To the Star, this makes her a ‘big-headed beauty’, but to those well versed in her lover’s business, it’s the customary score given to a decent showing.
But there is always room for improvement. Just like Sven’s teams, Nancy strives for perfection and, when asked what she would like to return as in her next life, she simply replied: ‘An improved version of me.’
So here’s to Nancy coming back to her own stomping ground and giving it the full 200%.’
Taking It On The Chin
‘NANCY Dell’Olio’s 110% looks show that the language of football has seeped into our every day life.
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| Think of a four-letter word that begins with C |
Why, only the other day, Anorak Towers’ resident caretaker, Ted, called his assistant ‘a lazy fucking thick nigger’.
A full-scale outbreak of handbags was only averted when our archivist pointed out that Ted was only repeating what he’d heard Ron Atkinson say on the telly just the other day, and meant no offence.
And it was right that there was none taken, because no less a pundit on footballing matters than Jimmy Hill says that such a comment is just a bit of harmless banter.
Indeed, it is no more or less offensive than calling Jimmy a jut-chinned berk.
The Mail hears Jimmy speak out on the matter of Atkinson’s outburst.
‘In that context,’ he said, ‘you wouldn’t think that words like nigger were particularly insulting: it would be funny without meaning to insult a black man. It’s about having fun.’
We would like to stop him right there, but by now Jimmy is in full flow, and continues: ‘What about jokes about my long chin? I mean, nigger is black – so we have jokes where we call them niggers because they are black.
‘Why should that be any more of an offence than calling me ‘Chinny”?
The answer to Jimmy’s question can be found in any number of books about slavery and the wholesale destruction of black peoples’ identity through the language of systematic abuse, nowhere more evident than in the term ‘nigger’.
And if Jimmy Hill is offended by people calling him ‘Chinny’, we humbly apologise and invite our readers to come up with a new alternative name for the former host of Match of the Day and presenter of a show on Sky Sports.
So let’s get the ball rolling with our offering: ‘Sacked’…’
Getting Shirty
‘IS Posh trying to speak to us? Is something more amiss in the Beckham household than we thought, something so bad that Posh is unable to put it into words, let alone sing it?
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| Your next girlfriend |
The post-Loos grin has vanished, no snowballs have been chucked and no camera has caught Posh riding piggyback on her husband with whom she is so very much in love.
All we have are T-shirts. After yesterdays Mrs Beckham effort, Poshs T-shirt du jour, shown in todays Sun, is a light blue number with a faded picture of Mickey Mouse on the front.
This is desperately interesting, but what does it mean?
While the code breakers at Bletchley Park get on with finding out what Posh is trying to tell us, the woman should wait for the findings in a café.
And by café we dont mean a coffee house, where Posh can have lo-fat, skinny, de-caf water, but a greasy spoon, where she will eat heartily and put on the weight she needs to keep her man.
And this is important, because the Mail has seen a survey that shows how men are more likely to stray if their wives and partners are skinny.
The paper uses the by now familiar shot of Posh in Mickey Mouse mode to illustrate the news that seven out of ten faithful men who responded said they preferred their women a size 16 or over.
In all, 64% of men with a girlfriend under a size 12 confessed to cheating, while only 20% of men with bigger lovers did the same.
The Mails conclusion is that men who chase skinny women could be more interested in looks alone and so are always on the prowl for a more attractive conquest.
The other reason might be that big women pack a meaner punch than the walking pencils that the Express uses to illustrate the same point.
Calista Flockhart, Liz Hurley, Tara Palmer-Tomkinson and La Posh are all examples of thin women who have failed to keep the fire of love burning, however hard their bones rub together in bed.
Not that all this really helps Posh, who, the Mail says, has been unable to eat because of the stress of being cheated on by her man. So she seems to be losing weight.
Which, to her mind, might just be the most positive thing to have come out of the entire experience…’
Get Thee To A Monastery
‘HAVING noted how men who go for skinny women are more likely to cheat, we turn to news of Prince Charles, who famously married and cheated on Princess Diana, the perfect size 10.
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| ‘My mum says never to trust a Greek flogging off his gifts’ |
This week, Charles gets time out to contemplate that and more as he holidays on the self-governing Greek Orthodox republic of Mount Athos in northern Greece.
As he lies in his 12ft by 10ft whitewashed cell, he can meditate on his naval career, his ex-wife, his current squeeze Camilla and wonder what life would have been like had he been blessed with his sisters looks, Andrews selflessness and Eddies way with tweed.
As it is Charles is Charles is Charles, and as such is spending his time at the Vatopedion monastery painting and worrying about Charles.
But there could be more to it. The Express is of the mind that the heir to the throne is so enthralled by the Greek Orthodox religion that hes possibly planning a conversion.
And itd be a move not without its advantages, since, as the paper puts it, the Greek way takes a kinder view on divorcees remarrying than his current Anglican faith.
And that would mean a marriage to the lovely Camilla, herself a divorcee and by our calculation more than a size 12.
Not that shes holidaying with Charles, since the monastery forbids women and, for some reason that utterly escapes us, even female animals from its compound.
Which is something else for Charles to think about…’
Mind Your Ps and QCs
‘ITS amazing to think that a man who spends his working life dressed in a whipped wig, flowing robes and stockings is viewed by many as being less than enlightened.
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| You can always trust a man who tucks his blouse into his tights |
He might even be seen in some quarters as square, out-of-touch with modern thinking and stuck in his ways.
So helping judges to become more in step with the world beyond their clubs wainscoted walls, the judiciarys Equal Treatment Bench has issued a handbook.
The Mail has seen the work and concluded that this is just more tinkering from what it calls the PC lobby, a group of Blairites and Tonys cronies who seek to purge the English language.
Critics, to whom the Mail is happy to give full throat, are unhappy.
Ruth Lea, of the Centre For Policy Studies think-tank, says: Some of the material is outrageously offensive to women, some of it is just wrong, and the people who produce it should be exposed as the charlatans they are.
Strong words from Ms whatshername of some place of other, served up as by the Mail, as being in some way typical of popular opinion.
But is Ms Lea right to be appalled? Lets take a look at some of what the Mails language police have ruled.
Judges are advised to not say half-caste but to refer to the person before them as being of mixed parentage.
Coloured is deemed offensive, and the term West Indian is frowned upon for its colonial overtones.
What were the wheelchair bound become wheelchair users (suggesting they have some choice in the matter); people who suffer from an illness now merely have an illness, and those with a mental handicap are experiencing mental health problems.
And given the history of marriage in the subordination of women it should come as no surprise that many women find it offensive to be referred to by reference to their marital status or their husbands name – especially if the woman has just hacked her husband to death with a meat cleaver.
Or is the eternal Mrs Beckham.’
Footballers’ Wives
‘SEEN the documentary? Read the text message? Well, now buy the official Beckham T-shirt.
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| Posh was worried that her husband was morphing into David Seaman |
La Posh models the latest piece of Beckham-branded merchandise in the Sun, wearing a top upon which the legend ‘Mrs Beckham’ has been printed.
Nice though the top is, things have come to a sorry state when the wife of England’s leading footballer has to label her clothes so obviously lest they get mixed up on the bedroom floor with some other woman’s gear.
And it’s still worse when Posh realises that even her bald statement of identity is upstaged by other footballers and their wives, current, estranged and past.
First up is Ray Parlour, the Arsenal midfielder who looks like Charlie Dimmock in shorts and a jock strap.
His ex-wife, Karen, is claiming around 37% of the footballer’s wages, which would boost the £250,000 a year she now gets to around £400,000 and come on top of the alimony he pays to support the couple’s three children and a lump sum settlement of £250,000 and two homes.
The debate has caused the couple to go to court and, most vitally of all for a watching Posh, to command the better part of an entire page of news and photographs in the Mirror.
Posh is going to have to up her game if she wants to retain her title as Footballer’s Wife Supreme.
If only Day-vid had just roughed her up in bed. That way, the likes of the Mail’s Lynda-Lee Potter (‘Sorry, Leslie, but this brute won’t change’), the Mirror’s Sue Carroll (‘Is Leslie losing it?) and the Sun’s Jane Moore (‘Face the truth, Leslie…and leave bully Lee’) would be talking about the Beckhams and not Leslie Ash and Lee Chapman.
But even then, would it be enough, especially when Stan Collymore is around?
Until now, few had seen Collymore’s wife, who had managed to remain in the shadows while her husband parked the family wagon in a secluded lay-by.
But now the Sun uses a shot of Mrs Estelle Collymore to illustrate its story of how the former England footballer has been charged with threatening to kill her.
Collymore will appear before the beak later this week after he was arrested over an alleged attack on his estranged wife’s Mini Cooper S.
He is also charged with threatening to burn down his parents’ home.
Collymore, who once beat up his former girlfriend Ulrika Jonsson, denies all charges.
But guilty or innocent, it’s apparent that Posh & Becks are going to have to try harder than a T-shirt if they want to stay on top.’
Aussie, Aussie, Aussie
‘TODAY the call goes up for all Australians to pick up their backpacks and head home.
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| Australian Fashion Week |
The land that spawned a million barmen and a million more soap stars-turned-pop acts is running out of people.
The Australian Government’s Treasurer, Peter Costello, can be heard in the Mail making an offer for Australians to take more of an active interest in the future of their country.
Revealing his budget to the nation, Costello will give parents of every Australian born $3,000 of the local currency (around £1,000).
‘If you can have children, it’s a good thing to do,’ says he. ‘You should have…one for your husband, one for your wife and one for your country.’
He was later asked if his was a call to go forth and procreate. ‘Some will manage only two for the country,’ came the reply, ‘but two only replaces yourselves.’
(Not for nothing is this man the keeper of the Australian books.)
‘Some of you will have to have more than one for your country – you’ll have to make up for some of your friends that aren’t even replicating themselves.’
That might be because some Australians know they are just not worth the effort of reproduction.
So what the country needs is for their children to return home, and for the better-looking ones and brighter ones to make babies.
Jono Coleman, your country needs you…’
Don’t Try This At Home
‘NOOOOO! Come on, Tara, they’re not that bad, a little small and not too pert, but a ‘DIY boob job’ is surely too high a price to pay for a fuller figure.
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| Could this be a cry for help from Tara? |
But the Mirror’s headline is a little misleading. Tara Palmer-Tomkinson is planning not to wield a surgeon’s blade on her own chest but to ingest some boob-expanding tablets.
But any DIY, however benign, should be undertaken with care.
A survey by the former minor public school boys in shiny suits at estate agents Knight Frank, and reported in the Mail, says ‘Don’t do it yourself’.
Although Britons spend over £7bn each year on home improvements, few of us are actually adding to the value of our homes.
For instance, installing a swimming pool will only earn back 44% of what it cost and excavating a basement will reap a return of as little as 15%.
However, a bigger chest can lead to more work and much exposure as the newspapers discuss your charms in the public forum.
Which is good news for Tara P-T, and encouraging stuff for Posh – or The New Jordan, as it says on her XXXXL T-shirt…’
Mirror Images
‘THE picture looks horribly real. The Mirror, once more operating at the vanguard of photojournalism, is the only paper that dares to produce the shot.
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| ‘Quick! Someone put a hood on her head!’ |
Those of a weak disposition and failing heart should look away now – even hearing about the sheer gut-wrenching awfulness of the Mirror’s Page 3 shot can turn your stomachs inside out.
Yes, folks, it’s Charlie Brooks, aka EastEnders’ murderess Janine Butcher…in her knickers.
The Mirror claims the picture, and the accompanying story about Brooks’ weight loss, was passed to it by an unnamed source at Closer magazine.
But we can take nothing at face value, not after the recent shots of those pictures apparently showing Iraqis being abused by British soldiers.
So we’ve taken them to an expert in a bid to ascertain their authenticity.
And yes, they ARE real. Charlie’s pink, wide-banded knickers ARE available in this country, possibly at a market stall.
Her camisole, vest-style top IS the genuine article. The high heels can be BOUGHT at any high street store. And the bedroom scene visible in reflected promise to Charlie’s right IS a real bedroom, with ACTUAL table lamp and bed.
Of course, the wonders of technology mean that the shot might be a fake.
Rumours already abound that Brooks IS an actress.
But we hope it’s not. Indeed, we pray. The Mirror has taken a bold step in publishing the shot, and should be applauded for it.
But if it proves to be a fake, we fear that other Page 3 models will be hurt, their livelihoods and careers put in danger by the arrival of a new occupying force on their patch.’
Sick As A Dog
‘THE BBC was right when it told us that everyone was talking about EastEnders – most are saying, ‘Isn’t it rubbish?’ and ‘It’s not been the same since Roly left’.
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| ‘Upstairs newly renovated, sleeps three or four…’ |
But a few voices have been left struck dumb by recent events. There is little wrong with the show itself, at least nothing that decent scripts, better actors, sustainable plot lines and better entertainment cannot fix.
Indeed, it might be an idea to turn the cameras around, so to speak, and show us what goes on behind the scenes.
That way we’d see how much Dirty Den’s on-screen wife actress Tracy-Ann Oberman, who plays Chrissie Watts, dislikes performing love scenes with her fictional hubby.
It wasn’t always the case – the Sun says Tracy-Ann only started feeling ‘SICK’ after reports that Leslie Grantham exposed himself on a webcam.
We also get to hear from the actress’s close pal, as she says how ’embarrassed’ Oberman is about things and how she feels really left out because all the cast are blackballing Grantham and refusing to talk to him.
‘Since most of her scenes are with Grantham, it’s really hard for her. She feels lonely and hasn’t made many friends yet,’ says the unnamed source.
This sounds like the makings of an interesting episode, and one a darn sight more enthralling that seeing a rheumy-eyed Dot harping on about how worried she is for such-and-such and watching Jessie Wallace being upstaged and out-acted by one of her T-shirts.
It’s clear that some degree of editing, censorship if you will, is needed. Off-screen activity is fun to watch, but you can see too much.
While we like to ogle Abi Titmuss on Channel Slapper, the idea of seeing her former beau John Leslie re-enacting the pair’s home movies is too much to take, even if the audience is under the influence of Class A drugs.
Thankfully, Leslie has decided that even he has standards and, the Sun reports, has decided that his telly career looks even less promising than the Mirror’s shot of Charlie Brooks.
So he’s quitting the magic box and getting a new job. And you’ll never guess what line of business he’s going into. Or, perhaps, having seen his oily charm, sharp suits and smugness, you would.
Yes, that’s right, he’s moving into the property game – an environment where we’re sure he’ll feel right at home.’
Mind Your Language
‘HAVING waved goodbye to Robert Kilroy-Silk, Ron Atkinson and John Leslie in recent times, it’s occurred to us that TV is purging itself.
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| ‘Bloody Kilroy-Silk’s moved into No.33’ |
It’s as if TV wants to starts again.
And no-one and no show is safe from the cull. As the Express reports, shows like Fawlty Towers and Only Fools And Horses are falling prey to the censor’s editing splice.
Words and phrases in older programmes that have now become unacceptable will be removed.
The Mail illustrates how things will progress towards enlightenment by reproducing a ‘joke’ that one viewer complained about.
In an episode of OFAH, granddad comments to Del, who is stocking up on items in case of an attack from the Russians, that he shouldn’t worry because a ‘Paki shop’ would be open in the event of a nuclear holocaust.
At the time that was deemed inoffensive, merely emblematic of the way an old duffer who lived in grotty council flat in Peckham would speak.
But now the BBC finds that ‘research [the single complaint] shows that its perceived offensiveness has increased significantly over the intervening years, and, in the absence of a particular contextual justification, its use in programmes is no longer acceptable.’
The word will now be removed or obscured in future broadcasts.
As will be the Major’s racial masterclass in Fawlty Towers in which he explains the differences between ‘niggers’ and ‘wogs’, or n*****s’ and ‘w**s’, as the Mail puts it.
What that difference is no-one will ever get to find out. And that goes for niggers and wogs, too, who, will have discover the truth by watching reruns of Mind Your Language instead.’
Streets Behind
‘IS it true that in France soap awards take place only once a year? Say what you like about European enlightenments, but we Brits like our soaps to be rewarded regularly and often.
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| ‘Pets win ruddy prizes, more like’ |
It might only have been a few days since Anorak held its own awards – and Leslie Grantham scooped the lot, winning awards for Best panto villain in a chatroom; Best off-screen row; and Most aroused male (over 50s category) – but the weekend saw another set of gongs dished out.
Naturally, after that recent peak, there was no need for Grantham to attend the Best British Soap Awards.
In fact, the Star says the man who put the filth in Dirty Den looks to have decided to quit on a high, planning to leave the show and return to obscurity and, perhaps, a room above the garage where he keeps his computer.
But others did attend, and the Express has a full list of the winners of such career-turning awards as Best Actor Playing Himself (Shane Richie – EastEnders Alfie Moon); Best Performance As A Drudge By A Young Actor (Natalie Cassidy – EastEnders Sonia Jackson) and Soap Bitch Of The Year (Kate Ford – Coronation Streets Tracy Barlow).
All worthy winners, we think you will agree. But Sexiest Female: Jessie Wallace? Well run that by you one more time. Sexiest Female: Jessie Wallace!
If only she were, then Grantham might have demurred from logging onto a BBC PC and got his jollies peering at the heavily-painted EastEnders harridan instead.
But there was an award yet more contentious than that. In light of the decision by the public and a shadowy unnamed panel of soap experts to award the Best Soap Award to EastEnders, the Sun says that the soaps are AT WAR.
So bad was it that Bruce Jones, Corries Les Battersby, stormed out of BBC TV Centre where the awards were being dolled out.
Julie Hesmondhalgh, who plays Corries Hayley Cropper, moaned: We were robbed. We are miles better than EastEnders. We are. That is just the way it is.
So confident were the Corrie actors of getting the prize that they were already out of the seats and on the way to the stage when the category was announced.
We walked down the steps as they said the award goes to… and they said EastEnders. It was very humiliating, says Hesmondhalgh.
Happily, the Corrie troupe will have the chance to get over it at next weeks soap awards.’
Trout Of Order
‘GIVEN their pre-eminent position in British society, the official statement from Leslie Ash and Lee Chapman could never be long in the coming.
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| Nothing fishy about these two |
Just as Posh n Becks sought to draw a line under the stories of his alleged affairs with a statement (and in so doing lit them up in neon), the footballer and his actress wife have been forced to come out and put things on the record officially.
We are deeply upset and hurt by Debbie Ashs interview with the Mail on Sunday, read the statement, now reproduced by the Mirror.
The claims she is making are simply not true. We cannot understand why she has made such claims; we can only presume that it is for financial gain.
Knowing as we do that there is nothing more tawdry than doing anything more money, we fight our righteous disgust and turn to the Mail to find out just what Leslies sister Debbie, a former dancer with Hot Gossip, said.
I fear for her life, says Debbie of her sister. Who knows what the next accident will do to her? I have kept quiet because I thought it was up to her, but now I realises she is in deep denial about what is happening.
Debbie is suggesting that the recent injuries to her sisters person were not accidental, the product of rough sex as the couple claimed, but caused by an incidence of domestic violence.
So now, to defend her sister, brave Debbie has taken the supportive stop of telling a national newspaper all about it.
And whats more, the Express kicks gypsies of its front page to tell the world how, in light of Debbies allegations of having seen Chapman hitting his wife about the head and face, the Metropolitan Police Domestic Violence Unit will now examine the case.
Along with Debbies claims, the Met will also study photos of Ash in which her mouth was horribly swollen to resemble that of a trout.’
Down, George!
‘YOU might like to get an adult to help you with this story. And send granny out of the room.
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| A victim of the ratings’ war |
The Mirror says that the BBCs moves to create a newer, fresher image are moving on apace.
Where Michael Parkinson led, now George the tortoise has slowly followed. But the manner of his departure was not nearly so smooth.
The Mirror hears the BBC claim that George, the Blue Peter tortoise who has slept through the show for 22 years, is dead.
We do not know how exactly he died (and how can you tell when a tortoise is dead?), only that he fell victim to something called old age.
(Parkinson can think himself lucky to have gotten away from the BBC so lightly.)
Its a sad day. And one in which the Mirror looks back over some of Georges finest moments.
Who can forget the time he urinated on athlete Kris Akabussi live on air?
And what about that episode when presenter Mark Curry trod on George, sending the star in a hard shell spinning across the studio.
Great moments in all our lives, not only in Georges.
But there is no room for such innocent fun at the new-look, modern BBC, with its Strictly Come Dancing and its celebrity DIY shows.
At least you can join in with Georges farewell at home, however. All you need is a dead tortoise, an old shoebox, some double-sided sticky tape and a shallow hole.
Oh, and dont forget a friendly coroner – you wouldnt want this turning into a scandal. Remember Dr Kelly?’
Laura Doesn’t Bounce
‘JANINE finally got her just deserts this week (as opposed to the usual desserts shes clearly been scoffing on an hourly basis).
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| ‘Who says I can’t have me cake and eat it?’ |
Wot goes around comes around, taunted Pat as Janine grew increasingly more desperate to prove that she didnt kill Laura.
Laura died in a bizarre toy-engine-related fall, but Pats determined that Janine should take the blame. Pat discovered Laura lying at the bottom of the stairs, goggle-eyed and drooling so understandably it took her some time to realise that Laura was actually dead.
When she did, she scooped up baby Bobby and delivered him to father Gary, then called the police. Walfords finest inspected the scene and discovered a credit card receipt that Janine had conveniently dropped hours earlier during their fight.
That, coupled with the knowledge that Janine had slept with Ian and her history of being on the scene when people fall over and die, was enough for the police to arrest her.
I didnt do nuffink! screamed Janine, for once telling the truth (if ungrammatically).
Janines only hope is for Pat to tell the police that she knows that Laura was still alive when Janine left her – a hope about as foolish as Claudio Ranieri renewing his Kensington and Chelsea parking permit.
The police have bailed Janine (as you do when you suspect someone of committing two murders) and shes determined that shes not going down well shes certainly done more than her fair share of that in her time.
On hearing the news that Janine had been arrested, Natalie has returned to Walford, determined that justice is finally done for her dead ex-husband.
She and Pat have joined up like a pair of avenging harpies (with enormous earrings), flapping round the Square and ensuring that no one weakens and agrees to help Janine with her plans to flee Walford.
Unfortunately for viewers, no-one does, and were set to lose one of the few good characters EastEnders has left. Whats a soap without a murdering, drug-taking, prostitute or two?
New character Chrissie (who seems to be a dish mop in a leather jacket) had decided to stay in Albert Square after Den promised her that hed changed.
Chrissie was shocked to discover that Den had three children but resolved to try and get to know them. Just wait til she finds out that two of them used be lovers.
However, thats nothing to how shes going to react when she finds out that her husband likes to spend his free time making special friends on the Internet.’
Hell Hath No Fury
‘THERE seems to be only two people left in the country who believe the pictures published by the Mirror of Iraqi prisoners being abused by British soldiers are genuine.
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| One in the eye for the press |
One is Mirror editor Piers Morgan; the other is an unnamed soldier who today comes forward to accuse rogue elements of the Queens Lancashire Regiment of brutality.
Soldier C says the violence is being led by three ringleaders and was even encouraged by some officers.
And he added that he believed the pictures published by the paper last week showing a British soldier urinating on a suspected Iraqi thief were genuine.
I probably know the person who took the pictures, he said.
But Mr Morgan and Soldier C are in a small minority the rest of the papers are convinced they are fakes and are revelling in the Mirrors discomfort.
The Star, for instance, accuses bosses of the Mirror, which it laughingly refers to as a down-market rag, of taking blood money by selling on the photos around the world.
The Express cynically publishes a picture of the funeral of Darren Leigh MC, war hero and member of the same regiment accused by the Mirror of abusing Iraqi prisoners.
And the Sun calls on its rival to apologise for being conned and thereby inflaming the situation in Iraq.
Such squabbles between newspapers are commonplace; when the Press as a whole comes under attack, however, they close ranks like the journalistic equivalent of the Slater family.
The Mirror, for instance, is incensed that supermodel Naomi Campbell yesterday won her lawsuit against the paper for a February 2001 story exposing her drug addiction.
Law Lords voted 3-2 to overturn a 3-0 appeal court verdict in the Mirrors favour, itself overturning an original High Court decision for the model.
Confused? Its just a question of maths and the Mirror sums it up thus: Five judges agreed with us. Four agreed with a lying, drug-abusing prima donna. She won.
The Mirrors chief lawyer Marcus Partington was furious, especially as certain Law Lords found for the appellant on the basis of a claim for privacy that had been withdrawn.
Seemingly, he said, you can now be successful in litigation even though you commit perjury at trial and on the basis of a claim you havent made.
Far from celebrating its rivals defeat, the Sun stands shoulder-to-shoulder with it on this issue.
It calls the decision disgraceful and says the only people who will benefit from this de facto privacy law are the rich, the famous and the crooked.
And the lawyers, of course.’
Put It On Plastic
‘WHEN Demi Moore paid $400,000 for a new body, she did at least snare a 25-year-old toyboy as a result.
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| And on the eighth day God’s cosmetic surgeon created Barbie |
Caroline and Catherine Johnson have between them spent £41,000 on plastic surgery and they now look like they would frighten away the neighbourhood dogs.
Bizarrely, the Mail says, the twins decided to have the surgery to look like each other.
As neither was exactly blessed in the looks department before they went under the knife, it was a strange decision.
Wouldnt they have done better to ask the surgeon to make them more like, well, Demi Moore, for example?
Worse, the makeovers were paid for by the makers of Extreme Makeover, the execrable US series being broadcast over here by Living TV.
Caroline, who was the uglier of the two before surgery, had £28,000 spent on an eye lift, rhinoplasty, chin implant, dental work, breast implants, a tummy tuck and liposuction.
Catherine, the marginally less ugly one, had only £13,400 spent on dental work, breast implants and a tummy tuck although now she looks worse than her sister.
The Mail says this is part of a trend – last month, a couple spent £120,000 on plastic surgery trying to transform themselves to look like Barbie and Ken.
Those who cannot afford such sums should apply to US Army, Abu Ghraib prison, who are currently performing free nose jobs, rib removal, lip augmentation…’
